The Transient Pt 1
by mick van haha
Summary: When a dysfunctional family involved in a road accident fall prey to the cannibalistic Sawyers, what will be left of them? Maybe one small family member is to be spared:Nails, the small, silent kid that Leatherface has taken a liking to. R&R pls,Thanks!
1. Roadside Mishap

**(A/N: This is my first time so please be gentle! Anyway, this story is about a sick kid who, through insufferable bad luck I suppose, lives a hard-knock life. Anyway, as this is a fanfic, the kid gets to meet several famous serial killers on the way. Incredulous, right? Yeah. Lol. If you have any questions, comments and angry reactions, kindly post 'em up as R&R, thanks! :D)**

Ch.1

A dilapidated truck ambles its way across the Texas interstate, leaving massive clouds of dust in its wake. Up front, the radio rasps and flickers from one radio station to the next as the agitated driver recklessly turns the dial around and around.

"Daddy, I wanna listen to m' tapes." Says a boy from the back.

"I dun' wanna listen to yer damn tapes," says the Daddy.

"Mommy, I wanna listen to the m' tapes." The boy insists

"Let him listen to his tapes, Earl."

"Shut up, woman! You can't let 'em go doing whatever stuff they wanna; gotta show 'em who's Boss."

"But you 'aint no Boss, Daddy."

"Keep that piehole shut kid! Else 'imma throw them tapes out the window."

The Boy grumbles incoherently, shuffling in his seat to inflict his misery upon the other three that sat with him. Boy was the biggest of the kids, and he was sixteen, already big, beefy and pimply. Being the oldest he would always find ways to torment the others: His younger sister who was thirteen and another brother who was twelve who was fat and always asleep. But he'd always find reasons to torment the youngest kid, who was barely over six and usually sat wedged in a corner, chewing her nails and not speaking.

"Y'know that's gross, don't you?" Boy nudged the small kid's head with his finger. "Chewing on your nails will get the big worms in your stomach and soon they'll eat you out from the inside!"

"That's not true! That's not true!" says the girl who was thirteen. "It's not true, is it Mommy?"

"Course it's true!" Boy keeps nudging at the little kid's head, now using his hand to shove her harder into the corner, "See? Worms eating way past her brains; I can hear 'em rollin' around in that skull, see?"

The Girl, who was squeamish, puts her hands over her ears and screams shrilly.

"Shut up you little dipshits!" Daddy says from up front, but Boy keeps on nudging harder and harder.

"See Daddy? She's like one of them zombies who—_gaaargh_!"

It had only been a matter of time until the kid's teeth would go from her nails to Boy's, and she lashed out like an animal three days starved, scratching and gnawing at Boy's fingers and every part of him she could reach with her small hands. Boy yells and flails around in the constricted back seat, waking up his sleeping brother and terrifying the squeamish Girl, and irritating Daddy so much that in a matter of minutes, they were one hell of a racket all holed up in one small space.

"Get her off me! Get her off me!" Boy screeches while Mommy tries pulling away the frantic nail-biting kid off him. But when she does, she manages to kick Daddy right in the face, and get one of her feet caught up in the clutch. Soon, the truck goes spinning, hits something in the middle of the road and gets thrown off course into a ditch.

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(_A/N: I suck at name-giving so I give the characters pretty dumb names. The driver is Daddy, his wife is Mommy, the jackass son is Boy, his sister is Girl, the fat brother is Fatface and the small kid's name is Nails because she likes her nails with a hungry passion_.)

Nails opens her eyes and blinks. Then looks around. She is in a small, dark and filthy room which, from the vantage point of us omnipotent onlookers, is a makeshift slaughterhouse. Meat hooks and belts and other sharp, rusty objects hang from the ceiling, dried blood is all over the walls, overlapped with the fresh flow of new blood dripping from, well, everywhere. Nails has never seen a slaughterhouse, and has never seen blood, and so a feeling of curiosity washes over her upon taking in the sights, the smells and the sounds.

The sounds!

"Mommy! Mommy!" Girl's screams are heard, but she is nowhere in sight. An Ice Box (an old version of the freezer) nearby shudders in tune with Girl's screams. Nails looks up and sees Daddy's pants and shoes hanging on one of the hooks. Fatface's clothes are in a heap in one corner. Mommy and Boy are nowhere to be seen.

A door slides violently open and the sound of screaming rushes into the room. It's the sound of Boy screaming, but for Nails, this was a normal affair. Boy was _always_ screaming.

"That boy's got some lungs." An old man edges backwards into the room, laughing, "Reckon it'd be chewy when they come right out, dunnit?"

Boy's screams are disrupted as he is gagged and hit repeatedly in the head to shut him up. The old man walks back out, "Now, now…don't you worry now, boy. It'll be all right. No need to raise a ruckus—"

Boy keeps screaming anyway.

"You need to stay put now. Here see, supper's gonna be round in a minute. Y'like supper boy?"

Boy screams.

"Hush now, hush now. Yer really gonna like supper. Y'see I make the best chili in the state, see? Right now it's so damn good 'coz the meat's fresh and fatty, see?"

And again, Boy's relentless screaming, this time joined by a series of grunting.

"Oy! You git yer ass back in there and get your work up and done; Ice Box can't shake that much or it'll get broke, boy!"

There is grunting and whimpering as the old man shoves a large, rotund, quivering mass into the room.

Nails looks at him blankly. He had an apron on, and a wooden spoon in one hand, a head of curly dark hair and, to Nail's point of view, a very weird face. Of course, to us viewers and readers, it's none other than the chainsaw-wielding denizen: Leatherface.


	2. Bubba meets a new friend

**(A/N: This is my first time so please be gentle! Anyway, this story is about a sick kid who, through insufferable bad luck I suppose, lives a hard-knock life. Anyway, after a road accident she wakes up in the Sawyers' slaughterhouse. For any questions, comments, flames and other violent reactions, kindly put them up in the R&R, please and thank you :D ps: I do not own Bubba or any of his family members. I only own Nails :D )**

Ch. 2

Nails sits quietly in the corner she had woken up in. She watches Leatherface fumble with the tools and pace back and forth from a slab and to a table with the tools. Fat and on the slab was the upper half of a body whose head is unseen by Nails, as she is too small to see the whole thing. She could only see the ribcage as Leatherface expertly tears them apart. Nails does not know the ribcage belonged to Daddy. Nails does not know the bright red ribbons that Leatherface pulls up and ties around the hooks are Daddy's intestines. To Nails, it looks like party décor, bright red ribbons strewn up and around, a gruesome sight to behold.

Like small children are, Nails grows too curious and tries to crawl closer, knocking over a pail of rags. The noise terrifies Leatherface and he immediately reaches for his meat cleaver, whirling around in circles to ascertain where the sound had come from. He looks silly to Nails, who finds all this very amusing, and giggles.

Leatherface wails and raises his hand to strike; but has raised the hand with the wooden spoon. He sees the tiny figure in the corner and is both frightened and intrigued by it. He poses to strike and shrieks, but Nails does not flinch. Instead she copies his movements and is immersed in fits of giggling.

Needless to say, Leatherface, despite his badass image and chainsaw-wielding antics, is mentally retarded and has the disposition of a small child. What a normal adult finds annoying whenever a child copies movements does not apply to Leatherface; it is all a game to him and he has found a playmate. He claps his hands slowly, a non-verbal equivalent of "yay!" and kneels down to inspect the new creature. It hadn't been moving when he brought it home, but now it was. His brother, Cook, had wanted to chop her up early, but had chosen the fatter one first, since the small one was thin and had hair too long and dirty-looking.

Leatherface hadn't encountered people so small before. He reached out to pat its head, like a boy would pat a dog, and Nails reached out and pat his head in return. Leatherface wheezed and grunted in glee; Nails, fascinated with the new friend, patted his leathery face mask repeatedly.

"Leatherface! Open the door for Aunt Mae!"

Leatherface cringes, stands up, and squats again, making gestures to try reassure Nails, who was otherwise calm but confused. Leatherface piles some rags on top of Nail's head and gestured for her to stay still as he saunters outside to hold the door open for his Aunt Mae.

"What's with the meat cleaver and spoon, boy? You look silly." Aunt Mae mutters good-naturedly as she enters, "I see your brother's gotten a new door!"

"Aunt Mae! Just in time fer supper!" Cook lingers animatedly once Aunt Mae enters the kitchen, "We got new livestock, see? One of 'em's a brewin' and a couple are up fer storage—"

"—be back from 'nam next couple 'o months…Well I'll be damned. You got yourself some young 'uns." Aunt Mae had been babbling on regardless of the flow of the conversation.

"A family of 'em, Aunt Mae. Got ourselves a Mommy an' a Daddy and three 'lil uns, 'aint that right, Bubba? 'Aint that right?"

Leatherface nods his head furiously, grunting in response. Boy, who is exhausted from screaming, groans and struggles in his chair.

"Well, don't you be rude now," Aunt Mae heads for the drawers, taking out the cutlery, "Have the family join us for supper."

Cook cackles gleefully and lifts a pot from the stove. Around that time, Mommy comes to; she had been sitting by the table, all tied up and gagged like Boy. She moans when she sees Boy and Cook greets her cheerfully. "G'day, Ma'am." And to Aunt Mae: "Well, the momma's up. Got one of the boys up. And another one 'o the boys right 'ere!" He sets the pot and its bubbling contents on the table. It's chili, and we know what's in it. Who's in it. Cook laughs at his joke, and Aunt Mae smiles and shakes her head.

"What the fuck are you standing there for, boy?" Cook snaps at Leatherface who'd been standing near the door to the slaughter room, fiddling nervously with his spoon, "Go fetch the rest of 'em happy fam'ly!"

Leatherface whimpers some, gestures as if trying to reason with him, as if saying 'is that really necessary?'

"You tryin' to disobey me, boy?" Cook twirls a hand towel and lets go of one end, causing the other end to nip sharply at Leatherface's behind. "Get 'em on up! Get 'em on up! Go on now, go!"

Leatherface squeals and scampers down to the slaughter room. He fetches Girl from the freezer and Daddy (or part of what used to be Daddy) and hurries on up. Meanwhile, Nails peers up from her cover of rags, wondering why she wasn't included.


	3. Dinner

**(A/N: this is based on the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre that came out in 1974, **

**with the Sawyers. It's kind of hard to get the story flowing because there were so few characters then, and so i reckon i'd just get some of the Hewitts to drop by. And i warn thee; it's a long chapter. For any questions, comments, suggestions, flames and/or violent reactions, kindly post them up as R&R thank you! :D)**

Chpt. 3

Mommy, despite herself, begins screaming when Leatherface tries in vain to sit Girl onto a chair.

"Damn that girl's frozen so bad; look at 'er! Straight and hard like firewood!" Cook laughs at Leatherface's insistent attempts to sit Girl down, "Go on, boy! You can do it!"

Leatherface looks up at him, eyes bright from the encouragement, and he nods and tries harder, grunting as he pushes and pushes the frozen Girl onto the chair. His efforts were repaid when there was a loud sort of cracking sound as the frozen hips separated from the frozen back, bone and muscle and all.

Mommy screams Girl's name hysterically through her gag as Leatherface sighs contentedly, miming the wiping of sweat from his mask's brow. Cook compliments him for his efforts by laughing and clapping his hands.

"You brought the daddy, Bubba?"

Leatherface nods enthusiastically, holding up Daddy's head, jaw hanging open.

"Well howdy there mister!" Cook says.

"_Hwny_!" Leatherface squeaks through Daddy's head, moving his jaw. He makes a few more sounds that might have sounded like his version of human words while using Daddy as a puppet before Aunt Mae reprimands the two of them.

"Oh just quit it, both of you." she says, "You're making 'er all and upset."

True. Mommy is upset; she is bawling at the top of her lungs, struggling against her bonds. She pauses to breathe a bit but begins shrieking and crying when Leatherface put Daddy's head on the table right across her. Her sudden shriek and movements startles Leatherface and the head drops to the floor.

"Bubba you clumsy dingwat!" Cook snaps. "Put 'im up right an' proper! Now then, where's the girl?"

Leatherface gently places the head on the table, propping it up with a fork and knife after it had rolled off a few times (much to Mommy's distress) and brushing the head gently with his hands as if saying, _stay there, don't move_. He pretends to have ignored Cook's question and heads for his place at the table.

"Where's the damn girl?" Cook demands and Leatherface cowers a bit and anxiously twiddles his fingers together, eyes darting around the room. It is evident that he is thinking. Hard.

"Leatherface," Cook says silently, seriously and Leatherface, recognizing the hushed, deadly tone, keeps still, chewing at his lips nervously, "Where's the girl?"

Leatherface cocks his head, looks around and points at Girl repeatedly as if saying, _There's the girl, there's the girl_.

"No, dammit! The _other_ one!"

Leatherface takes a few steps backward and shrugs and makes gestures with his hands and communicates to Cook using his own mumblings. _What other girl?_ He seems to imply. _There's no other girl. That's the girl_. He points at Girl again, hoping to convince Cook that Girl was the only...

"Don't you dare wind me up, boy!" Cook stands up and produces a big wooden spoon from somewhere in the drawers and begins to wave it threateningly at Leatherface, who cowers to a corner and tries reasoning out. _Nuh-uh, nuh-uh_ he seems to say. _No more girl, no more girl_.

Cook's face twitches and he walks closer, "Why you little--" he pauses and looks past Leatherface. "Why lookie here!"

Everybody looks. There is a small girl by the basement door, on her hands and knees, rags on her head. She had crawled up from down below, probably curious about the racket.

"And you were tryin' ter fool me, boy?" Cook whacks Leatherface soundly with the spoon and Nails giggles as Leatherface howls and tries to protect himself with his arms.

"Dreyton!" Aunt Mae says and Cook saunters off, now cheerful, to the table.

"Why don't you go put her in a chair, darlin'?" Aunt Mae says to Leatherface who had been trying to hide Nails by trying to push her back into the basement with his foot. "So we can start with your brother's chili. These people must be hungry."

Leatherface nods and whimpers as he ties Nails to a chair. Nails looks around and sees Mommy and Boy and Girl all strapped to their chairs and figures that tying visitors up in chairs is what these people do during dinnertime. She sees Daddy's head and wonders why he's sitting so low with the utensils on his face...

Cook ladles out the chili after Auntie Mae has said grace; Boy, who had been too tired to scream earlier, screams again, upon realizing that the hot meal had once partly been his brother. Mommy keeps on crying and this confuses Nails a bit. Mommy was always crying during dinner, but only when Daddy was screaming..._But Daddy's behaved this time_.

"Dreyton, aren't you gonna bring down Grandpa?"

"Grampa? Oh he's had dinner early," Cook says, "Got woke up when these here people got here and I reckoned he got hungry and we've fed him already. And besides," he adds, wiping the sides of his mouth with the back of his hands, "the chili gets him wrong in the gut."

Aunt Mae nods and returns her attention to her meal. Mommy stops crying and screams audible words: "You're crazy! Why are you doing this? Why?!" She must have had come off as so pathetic that Dreyton laughs and Leatherface imitates her.

"Fuck you!" Boy shrieks through his gag, "Fuck you! You're all nutters, you!"

"Quit provokin's them Dreyton; tha's why they get so damn crazy," Aunt Mae says, and then to Leatherface, "Darlin', look at the poor thing." She motions towards Nails who had been trying unsuccessfully to reach for her spoon and had begun groaning in frustration. "Reckon you can't untie her, can you Dreyton?"

"Nah, she mighta' run off. Bubba, help the little runt out."

Leatherface looks up anxiously, now faced with the task of feeding the new visitor. He goes over, and puts a spoonful of chili up to Nails' mouth. He pushes the spoon in before Nails is ready and the chili dribbles down her chin and front. Nails protests as the hot variand comes in contact with her skin.

"Not that way, darlin'." Aunt Mae up and goes to sit next to Nails, wipes her face up with a napkin and proceeds in feeding her. "You gotta do it like this here, make sure nothin' falls out." Leatherface nods, watching closely, replacing Aunt Mae when he had gotten the feel of it. It was like a new learning experience and he carefully follows the instructions like a good boy.

Nails follows this procedure but wants to do it on her own; soon Cook allows to have her untied so she may feed herself.

"Say," Aunt Mae notes towards the end of the meal, "Look at them young 'uns. They don't look none like their momma."

"Well, not all things that pop outta the same place go look 'sactly alike, Aunt Mae." Cooks says. "Lookit; me an' Bubba. We dun' look none alike."

"Chop-Top an' Hitchie look alike."

"They're twins, Aunt Mae."

Boy screams at Nails' direction, probably instructing her to hop off her chair and untie him. Nails, who hates being screamed at by Boy, sticks out her tongue at him.

Cook and Leatherface find this funny.

"They dun' go along well too." Cook laughs.

"But I'm tellin' you; I've told you before, Dreyton," Aunt Mae insists, looking closely from each of the children to either Mommy or Daddy's head, "They dun' look nothing like their momma or their pop. 'Specially this 'un." She nods at Nails who is busy with the chili.

"I dunno Aunt Mae." Cook says, watching as Leatherface reaches out to pat Nails on the head, and after receiving negative reaction, goes and pats her again.

Aunt Mae notices the animosity in Cook's eyes as he watches Leatherface cheerfully patting Nails, and notes the interest Leatherface has for the little girl. Leatherface, she knew, has never even been so far as tolerated by people outside of the family. But seeing him tonight with the scrawny little girl was such a touching sight that for the first time she wishes that Cook would not consider her for the pot.

"She's too skinny." She says, beginning to clear up the table. "I figure she 'aint no good fer the choppin' board. All bones and skin, I reckon."

Cook glances at Nails, who had begun yawning. "Yer 'right Aunt Mae. Probably need fattening up, eh?"

"Naw; I figure Bubba can keep her."

Cook looks aghast. Leatherface, upon hearing this, abandons his dishwashing duties to join in, soapy hands clasped together, eyes bright, looking hopefully from Aunt Mae to Cook.

"He can't keep her!" Cook says and Leatherface moves closer to Aunt Mae like a puppy, almost pleading with her to convince Cook to please, please, please let him keep the little girl.

"Don't be a party pooper, Dreyton," Aunt Mae sniffs, gently caressing Leatherface's arm affectionately, "Besides, he needs the company 'round the house when you're not here. Hitchie's up and left us. Bubba needs a new friend; he can't go on all hyped up an' weird when nobody's in the house. Look at when he wrecked the door, Dreyton! The boy's in over his head!"

Nails watches as the two adults argue. She knows nothing of the nature of the argument, or of its importance in deciding her fate; its outcome would seal it. She looks around at the others; Girl was beginning to thaw, Boy still screaming, Daddy's still sitting low and Mommy had passed out. _Their_ fates were already sealed. But what of Nails?

Unaware of such trivial matters, Nails curls up in the chair and falls immediately asleep.


	4. Aworkin'

**(A/N: If anybody has any suggestions, comments, reactions with pacifist or violent intentions, kindly put it up as R&R. I know, i know, the story drags and sucks, but im too used to lengthy plot and character development! D: **

**I do not own Leatherface or his relatives, i only own Nails and the other people that got eaten. peace! :D)**

Ch. 4

Nails wakes up with bones hanging down her face. Though this might have frightened the shit out of most kids, it didn't even remotely surprise Nails. She had been used to waking up to things hanging down her face: Dirty socks, boxers, even a dead rat. Boy's jokes. Sometimes even Fatboy's foot hanging down from the above bunk.

She sits up and brushes the string of bones away. They hung from the ceiling, fashioned as a pseudo-cradle accessory.

She stays put a bit, looks around and calls for Mommy. When there is no response, she calls and calls again.

"Dreyton! What is that?" Aunt Mae says from the kitchen downstairs.

"Wha's what?"

"There! Din't you hear it? Sounded like a baby donkey."

A pause as both of them strain to hear. After a few moments, realization dawns upon Cook and there is a sound of a metal door sliding open. "Leatherface! Get up here!"

A scuffle of footsteps ascending from the basement. A grunt of inquiry.

"What're you doin', not mindin' your pet? Git!"

Leatherface ambles up the stairs as Cook chases him with a ladle.

"This is what you git for keepin' livestock for pets, boy!"

Aunt Mae then cheerfully mutters something about Leatherface keeping a pet can be a good thing and that it can "Teach him the value of responsibility".

"_Re_sponsibility? _Responsibility_? The boy can't even spell 'is own friggin' name for crissake!"

Leatherface cautiously enters the room, first poking his head inside to check if the coast is clear.

Nails sees him but calls out for Mommy again. The sound that comes out of her mouth doesn't even sound like 'Mommy', but strangely enough, Leatherface responds by shaking his head and his hands as if to say Mommy wasn't around. And we know exactly why, but Nails doesn't know that.

And she doesn't seem to care. She likes this new friend so much better than the whole lot of Mommy, Daddy, Boy, Girl or Fatface combined. She gives him a big smile and claps her hands.

Excited, Leatherface kneels to be at level with Nails and pats her head eagerly. Nails mimicks him, and Leatherface proceeds to pat and poke at Nails' head until it annoys her.

"No!" Nails says. It is one among the few words she knows how to say.

Leatherface recoils, angered by the rejection. He begins to growl, but again, Nails says "No! No. _No_." She's seen Daddy and Boy do this with big growling dogs. They'd say 'no' and the dogs would shut up. And in child logic, saying 'no' firmly over and over to a growling dog applies to every living creature that growls.

"_Noooo_." Nails says.

Leatherface cocks his head to one side, anger dissipating. _No_? This was getting confusing. What is she trying to say?

"_No._" Nails points to the floor. Leatherface recognizes the lack of firm seriousness in her voice, the dreadful, frightening type that was always present in Cook's voice when he was ordering him around. He looks at the dusty floor and back to Nails who keeps saying "_No._" while pointing to the floor. He kneels farther to see if there is something there and Nails squeals in glee and goes over to pat his head.

"Ub-oi." She blabbers. "Ub-oi!" _Good boy_. _Good boy._

Leatherface, pleased that somebody was pleased with him, jumps up and down in his position and shoves her back slightly, beckoning her to do it again.

They play this game for some time before Cook goes up the stairs and sees them.

"Oi!" he says and Leatherface springs to his feet, shoving Nails back to the mattress in an attempt to hide her.

"You wanna play games all day, boy? Well, lemme tell you somethin'; life 'aint all fun an' games, y'hear me? So git your ass downstairs! Git!"

Leatherface hustles downstairs. Cook stares at Nails, who stares back up at him.

"What're you lookin' at, runt?"

Nails stares at him and notes the curling lip. She tenses and points at him and says. "No!"

"What did you say?"

"No!" Nails says firmly. "No! No no no _no_!" She draws herself up and points to the floor. "No. _Nooo_!"

"What the hell--"

Nails begins jumping all over the room, distressed that Cook didn't follow as easily as Leatherface did. "No! Nonononono!"

"What the fuck are you doin'? Why you little--Dun touch that! C'mere!"

Nails hops swiftly about, evading capture, all the while screaming "no!" much to Cook's displeasure.

"Shut up you little runt! Shut up! Yer gonna wake Grampa!"

"No!" Nails slips through Cook's legs and past the door where she is chased, screaming (no!) down the stairs and around the kitchen table by Cook.

"What are you--stop that nonsense!" Aunt Mae says. But stop they did not; Leatherface joins in, in an act to protect his new pet from Cook. He finally manages to isolate Nails in a corner and play block-the-Cook for a bit before he picks Nails up with one hand and pretty much shields her in his arms.

"_Nnn_! _Nnn_!" Leatherface groans, shaking his head as Cook tries to reach Nails with the ladle.

"What? You fersakin' me for that little brat? You choose the livestock over family, Bubba?!"

Leatherface shakes his head, comforting Nails who was curling up to make herself smaller.

"Dreyton, sit down. You're overreactin'!" Aunt Mae says. "Now you leave that poor thing alone and start actin' your age. What kinda grown man would chase a little wee child aroun'?"

Cook grumbles and but says nothing aloud. Breakfast is therefore silent, for the first part anyway.

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"There's somethin' wrong with this here child." Cook says out of the blue. Aunt Mae looks up and rolls her eyes, throwing her hands in the air.

"For crissake, Dreyton, leave the kid alone!"

"Naw, see here Aunt Mae," Cook leans in closer and Aunt Mae listens hesitantly. "Lotsa kids go nuts without their parents around. Lookit, she ain't even a spot upset."

They look at Nails, whose sausage hops off the plate as she skewers it all wrong with a fork too big for her small hand. Leatherface makes odd wheezing noises: he is laughing.

"You don't reckon she's sick?"

"Prolly jus' stupid." Cook says and Aunt Mae scowls at him.

"Maybe she's just special," She says with a smile, "Jus' like our own darlin' Bubba. Ain't tha' right, Bubba?"

Leatherface looks up and nods, not really knowing what she was on about. Cook merely scoffs.

Shortly after breakfast, Aunt Mae leaves for the day. Half an hour after her, Cook follows.

"Now you go do your work proper, Bubba. I dun' want you playin' games all day." He says by the door. "I wanna see the 'lil ones chopped up an' ready fer t'morrow's barbecue. Y'hear what I'm sayin' boy?"

Leatherface nods furiously, hands clasped together.

"Right. See if y'can go on up to the woods an' see if we got some drifters."

"_Unhm._" Leatherface mumbles good-naturedly.

"Awright. An' you make sure that little runt of a pet o' yers dun' wander off an' escape! That'll land us in deep shit, boy!"

Leatherface nods and lingers around the front porch to see Cook off and when he and his truck were but a prick in the distant haze, he closes the new door gently.

Nails is in the living room, taunting a brown hen in a cage with a rib bone. She looks up when Leatherface passes by and he gestures for her to stay where she was before going back down to the basement. Nails follows him down there anyway.

Skinned limbs of her former family members hung on hooks everywhere, but of course, Nails did not recognize them at all. They were just meat on hooks now, not the people they once were. On the slab is a mummified body Leatherface is stitching up. (In accordance to the first two TCM, this mummified corpse is Hitchiker).

Nails hoists herself up the slab so she can see. Feet hanging a few feet off the floor, hanging by her chin and arms, she points to the corpse in fascination. She thinks it's a big ugly dummy. What is it? What are you doing with it?

Leatherface shoves her off the slab, only for her to pop up again, insistant. He grunts in exasperation and lets her watch him.

Nails reaches out for the needle. Let _me_ do it!

"_Nuh-uh_." Leatherface mumbles. "_Nuh-uh_" Silly thing. She'll prick herself. Leatherface himself had pricked himself so many times over he'd developed calluses so thick even when kitchen knives prick him, he wouldn't feel a thing.

Then he had an idea. She could sew skins together!

He picks her up and sets her down next to the sewing machine. He shows her how to put thread right through the needle and how to make the skins stick together by sewing the thread between them. Nails couldn't believe her luck; it's the first time in a very long time that somebody has actually taught her anything. Awkwardly at first, she sews two of the rubbery wet cloth together (she is unaware that it's skin; whose skin it is; it's probably Mommy's) and finds that if she was extra careful she could make one stitch look exactly like another one, and another and when they were all lined up and looked alike, the cloth didn't tear up easily. When the stitches covered the entire seam, she scurries over to Leatherface and holds it up. Look! Look what I did!

Leatherface looks and claps his hands. It's the first time he's actually taught anyone anything, and the rewarding feeling of success made him feel...good. In truth, both of them were so overcome with unexplained joy that for a moment, they were jumping and dancing around before a scream goes off in the distance and Leatherface stops.

He holds down a hop-happy Nails and listens. Nails notes the growing apprehension and stays still.

Again, a scream.

Leatherface jumps and freaks out. He takes Nails in his arms like a doll and scurries outside, yelping and darting around the house, looking out the windows in fear.

Nails does not understand why he's freaking out. She wiggles out of his arms as he crouches by the window and inquires, in her imitation of human speech, what the matter was.

Leatherface puts a finger to his mouth "_Ssh. Ssh. Ssh._" And he pushes her to sit down and looks out the window again. Panicking, he covers his eyes and ears in succession, eyes darting around the place for any solution...

Nails remembers long ago, to a time before Mommy or Daddy or Boy or the others...when she panics, a pair of hands would calm her down by caressing her face and hands. Again, in child logic, she applies this to Leatherface. Calm down.

Leatherface, meanwhile, pauses in his panic. He looks at this dirty-looking child trying to comfort him. Nobody shows him affection like this, not much anyway.

Inevitably, he calms down. For a while they sit there, with him thinking of how to deal with the problem outside. Would he wait until they stumble upon the house? Or should he venture outside and chase them? But chasing was such a fickle, fickle process and desperately needed the smarts for if he'd do something wrong, the prey would end up escaping to a main highway. Waiting for them to get in the house was just as troublesome....see what had happened to the door the last time that happened! He gets flashbacks of Cook prodding him with his cooking spoon for ruining the door when he is distracted by Nails, who again in her version of human-speak, pats his hand and asks if he was okay.

Leatherface nods. He's okay. He gestures for her to stay still, takes the leather covering of the sofa, drapes it over her, then puts a throw pillow on her head.

But Nails doesn't want to play this game again. She begins to take the cover off but stops. Play fair, a memory reminds her. She pouts and sits still. She jumps slightly when she hears a loud buzz coming from the basement. It stops and Leatherface emerges with his trusty old chainsaw and ventures outside, looking back twice to make sure Nails wasn't following him.

Curious, Nails peers through a gap in the leather. Why is he leaving? He can't leave! That's not playing fair!

Feeling cheated, Nails takes off the leather sofa cover and hurries to the door. It is locked; Leatherface had been taught (constantly, and quite painfully with the old spoon by Cook) how to always remember to lock the front door. Frustrated, Nails groans and sits on the floor in resignation.

She hears the bones hanging from the ceiling shift and knock against each other. Nails looks up. How is it that they move? She looks at the window. The wind. The window.

She goes to the window and pushes it open. Wind hitting her face, she jumps off the window ledge and runs off after Leatherface.


	5. a helping hand

_"...Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows..."_

_-John Betjeman_

Ch. 5

Nails gets lost in the small field of sunflowers by the Sawyer house. The sunflowers nod their heads lazily to the sun, content to bask in its midday heat. Nails stands among them in a daze, and waits for something. A sound, a movement.

A familiar buzzing in the distance. Nails' eyes brighten up and she scampers off into the direction of the woods, as fast as her tiny bare feet would will her to go.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh my god. _Oh my god_!"

"What the fuck was he after?"

"I don't know." Scarlett whimpers. "I don't know. Timmy, let's get out of here."

Timmy swaggers and drops partially to his knees. Leatherface had grazed his back with the chainsaw; _graze_ seems like a mild word to use for injury and seemingly might not even do much, but it _was_ a chainsaw. It had cut right through Timmy's shirt, skin, muscle and a part of a bone is showing.

The couple jump and tense when somebody screams from not too far away.

"What was that...?"

"Oh god...he got Anne!" Scarlett's lower lip trembles and she shakes violently, "No! No...Anne!"

"Scarlett, no! Come on, we can't help her now. Let's go!"

The woods, even in the middle of the day, is dark and misleading. The baking heat does not help anyone trying to escape; the thick overgrowth of thorns and bushes everywhere certainly served more to further obscure a passage for salvation. We, omnipresent viewers, see that there is no way out, and we all know what this spells for them.

"Timmy!" Scarlett pulls him back. "Timmy, wait!" She edges closer to a group of trees clumped together, veiled by dried up vines and bushes.

"What is it? C'mon let's go..."  
"No Timmy, wait." Scarlett insists. "Look..." She points into the nothingness.

"Where?"

"Behind the tree..."

"Dammit, Scarlett; this is a goddamn forest, there are trees _everywhere_--"

"There!" Scarlett whispers and she staggers forward in pursuit. Timmy is alarmed, but sees what Scarlett had been pointing to: a small figure darting from one tree to the next...a small kid or something.

"Hey...hey, wait!" Scarlett figure stops and peers out inquisitively from behind a tree. "Hey there...are you lost?"

"Scarlett," Timmy hisses nervously. The woods had become chillingly quiet once more, and there is no sign of the chainsaw wielding madman anywhere.

"Did he get your mommy and daddy?" Scarlett asks, keeping her voice low as she comes closer. "Come with us, honey....don't be scared. We're getting out of here--"

The little girl says nothing. Instead she partially comes out of her hiding place and stares up curiously at Scarlett. She had long, tangles black hair, a filthy pale blue sun dress caked with dried blood and no shoes on. Other than that she didn't seem to be hurt anywhere.

"We should take her with us."

"What? Scarlett, she might be..."

"No...come with us, honey." Scarlett reaches out her hand. Hesitantly, the little girl takes it, and she tugs at her gently, as if motioning Scarlett to come with _her_.

"Where are we going?"

The little girl points to a different part of the wood. It seems safe and there are signs of a blue sky and a spot of a highway.

"A highway!" Scarlett exclaims in joy and she pulls Timmy up. "Timmy, we're saved!"

But the moment they step out of the sinister shade, the sound of a deathly buzz comes into motion.

**(A/N: got a bit lazy bacause im kind of aware nobody'd interested in this story...but imma push through anyways. lol. any comments, suggestions and violent reactions, please post as R&R, thank you :D) **


	6. Reunion:Predinner reunion

Ch. 6

The sun is red on the horizon as it slowly lowers itself downwards, deep into the desert. Not too far above it, a blanket of indigo and a smattering of stars. A lonely cricket has begun chirping into the barren wasteland as if calling for company. And in an old house that sits alone, Cook has returned and is already chasing Leatherface around the basement again.

"There're four coats, y'big oaf! Why'dja bring back jus' three, huh?

Leatherface's yowls of attempted explanatins drifts upstairs, where Aunt mae sits in the spare room with Nails on her lap.

"Now, what'd you go around doin' all day?" she asks, in the manner of an adult animatedly asking children what they had been up to.

Nails, in her own manner of speech, gestures holding a chainsaw and cutting it through the air.

"So you up an' went with Bubba into the woods?"

"Uhn!"

Aunt Mae chuckles. It's not been a week and she's already grown fond of the girl. "Din't your Momma ever give you pigtails, honey?"

Nails does not know what that is; instead she looks at Aunt Mae's reflection on the mirror across the room and smiles. It is a genuine, toothy, childish smile, and Nails does so crookedly; she had never smiled with Daddy or Mommy or Boy or anybody else before the Sawyers.

"Well, we'll see 'bout that, darlin'," Aunt Mae reaced for a comb in a nearby dresser, "then we'll see if Cook'll treat you more like a nice 'lil lady now. This place could use a nice young lady like you."

Downstairs, the kitchen becomes hot as the smell of furiously boiling meat steams up, over and out the stove. Cook can be heard berating Leatherface as he perhaps tries in vain to help out.

"Don't touch that! Git back down there, boy; I can hear one of 'em kids tearing up the ice box again, dammit."

Footsteps: of Leatherface rushing to the basement, of Nails rushing down the steps and a third set out on the porch.

"Dag'nammit, you sunovabich you!" Cook, for the first time, ignores Nails as he fumbles in the drawers for a weapon. The footsteps in the porch had already gone quiet and the new doorknob was turning and the locks jiggling. "Y' fucking said there were three kids!"

Nails watches as the panic-stricken Cook ambles about the room. He rams his fist into the basement door and motions for Leatherface to come up.

"Whaddahell is wrong with you, boy? Can't you count with even one hand" Cook grabs Leatherface by the scruff of the neck and Leatherface cowers, whimpering.

"Eee. Eee!" Leatherface whimpers, holding out three fingers. Apparently he is trying to say three, but Cook refuses to hear him out.

"Git to that door boy." Cook literally kicks his rump towards the front door, "Mash them noggins 'til they can't kick no more. Go!"

Leatherface hesitates, but poises his hammer up as he reaches the door. Nails follows him, anxious at the tension, and Leatherface lifts her up and hides her under the stairs.

Leatherface poises and slowly reaches for the doorknob; breathless, Cook watches from the kitchen. Nails stares at all the action in anticipation. She could see through the laced window beside the door that the people outside, two of them, were not the kids that Cook had assumed. But in the ensuing panic, nobody but her cared to check.

Slam!

A woman screams first. Then Leatherface, then a man, then Cook, then, thinking it was a new fun game since everybody was joining in, Nails. The frenzied chorus of screaming attracts Aunt Mae from upstairs and she comes downstairs, yelling "What in heaven's name is this madness?"

Everybody stops screaming except Nails. Feeling Aunt Mae's heated gaze, Leatherface goes and muffles Nails' mouth with the apron he has on.

And _then_ there is silence.

The man on the front porch lets himself in, laughing maniacally and reaching out his arms in joy. He isn't a very pleasant sight to behold; his skin is pale, even for a white man, the teeth in his smile are all big and yellow and crooked and he looks, lank unkempt, and unbathed. He is _skinny_, bony; Nails tries to remember if she had ever seen anyone so thin. And he looked like one of those people Boy used to hang around and smoke with, ergo the hippies, albeit this one surpassed beyond all Hippie standards and actually did manage to go on years without combing his hair. But he did have a hat. People with hats, Nails concluded, could be quite interesting.

"I's great to be home!" He then proceeds to hug everybody in his path.

"Chop Top! Why, you 'aint 'sposed to be home til next month; the mil'tary said so," Aunt Mae remarks in surprise.

"Yeah? Yeah? Well...I 'dun wanna listen to the mil'tary no more." Chop top returns to the porch and, even after he had already hugged him, seems to notice Leatherface for the first time. "Bubba! Heh, heh...I got you back some...some of 'em cheddar knives. Sound good? Yeah, yeah...cheddar knives I got 'em in my—"

"Don't you mean _Swiss_ knives, Chopper?" says the woman. She was a complete contrast to Chop Top; slender and pretty, wavy blonde hair, she too had a hat on and round purple shades; her tight shorts revealed long, plump legs. She had a shrill, girly voice. "I mighta' not gettaround as much as you do, but I ain't dumb!"

"Cheddar, swiss; they all cheese, honeysticks."

"But Swiss knives ain't about cheese! It's Swiss, named afta' the place some folks live in!"

Chop Top considers it. "Where's that?"

"Swisserland." The woman says sweetly.

"Who's this, Chop-top?" asks Aunt Mae.

"Meh? Oh, this is Mariah, mah girl." Chop-Top giggles, and Mariah does too and they push against each other like an excited little couple.

"I'm his girl," Mariah giggles.

"Who's that?" Chop-Top points to Nails sitting by the stairs, anxiously chewing her nails again.

"Pet rat." Cook grunts.

"That's no rat, _silly_." Mariah says. Under normal circumstances, anyone saying something so cheeky might have angered old Cook, but nay, instead Cook blushes and pats back wisps of his hair.

"Anyfing small an' squeaky is a rat, I always say." He grins.

Chop-Top takes a close look at Nails. "Looks like something Nubbins an' a Nam woman woulda' made. Heh, heh." He cackles awhile, then as if remembering something, tears up, "Nubbins! Nubbins! Where's my Nubbins?" He scoots off into the basement like all hell was set loose after him, yowling and wailing in the process.

"Well now, aren't you pretty?" Aunt Mae says as she comes down the stairs. The woman, Mariah, giggles coyly at the compliment.


End file.
